The story of Anauta: by Will J. McEwen

              The Stary of
ANAUTA
by
WILL J. McEWEN

Figure


ANAUTA is not a pen-name, but her real name, given to her at birth by her parents.  If you can picture a lady who was born and raised where much of the time the temperature is 70 degrees below zero—who was raised as a boy; driving dog-sleds, shooting seal, polar bear, fox, and deer—and who was a grown woman with two children of her own, before she had ever tasted any kind of fruit or vegetable—then, you have some conception of our speaker.  ANAUTA comes from a land (Baffin Island) where there is: No Dishonesty—No Stealing—No Rackets—No contagious diseases—No decayed teeth—No bald-headed men—and where a man does not need to shave, because he has no beard.

It has been said: If we had only lived as the Eskimos of Baffin-Land live; the civilized (?) world would not today be in Such-A-Rotten-Mess.  And one of the strange things about ANAUTA'S life is this: After she became educated in our Highly-Civilized (?) Ways, — and became proficient in the study of History, Geography, Literature, Etc., — she was astounded to learn that there was no literature of any kind about her native Baffin-Land.  It seems that no Explorers, Historians, Adventurers, Archaeologists, Picture-Men, or Missionaries had ever visited her native land.  Even our friend, Vilhjalmur Stefansson, (noted Explorer and Scientist)— though he spent elevent years of his life North of the Arctic Circle—never got as far as Baffin-Land.  And Stefansson in his writings, bears out ANAUTA'S statement, that the Eskimos are the happiest people on Earth.

In ANAUTA's home-land they speak of going to Laborador as Going South.  Particularly bear this in mind: The Eskimos of Baffin-Land are just about as different from the Alaskan Eskimo as the average American is different from the Eskimo of Alaska.  (ANAUTA is white, and there is considerable discussion among anthropologists as to the real origin of the Eskimos of Baffin-Land.  ANAUTA has a strain of English in her blood.)  Baffin-Land is as far from Alaska as we are.

And you are going to have Your Eyes Opened on many things, about which, we always had a misconception.  You will remember Stefansson said: So much of the time that children are in school, they are learning things that ARE NOT SO.  ANAUTA's people never eat one bite of fat or blubber; they live entirely on lean meat, which is Frost-Cooked, — no fire.  And she claims that such food is much
 better for the health, the teeth and the stomach, than regular American food.  Their choice is the lean part of the seal.

In all her description of that far-off land, there is of course much seriousness; but you will have many good laughs, as she describes some of the ludicrous mistakes she made, while trying to get adjusted to The American Way of Life.  Especially, her efforts to be comfortable, in the kind of things the women of this country wear.  And, how she bought railroad tickets when she did not know where she was going.  Usually, she would go up to the ticket-office, watch others buying tickets, and listen; then, she would buy a ticket, the same as the last person ahead of her.  By this method, to her amazement, several times she found herself back in the same city she had left the day before.

How she happened to locate in Indianapolis illustrates this point.  After many days of traveling from some point in Canada, she found herself (with her two little girls) in Detroit, Mich., not knowing where she was, or even what country she was in.  After a full day of questioning by the Immigration Officials, she wound up in a railroad depot; the little girls sleeping on a bench, and ANAUTA wandering around the waiting-room, not knowing what to do.  Finally the ticket-agent noticed her strange actions, and inquired if she wanted to go someplace.  She said: Oh, yes.  When he asked her where, she answered: Oh, I don't know, just some nice place.  After considerable questioning, the agent endeavoring to find out to what city he would sell her a ticket, an idea suddenly flashed into her mind.  And she inquired: Where would you go, if you were buying a ticket?  Immediately he answered, Oh, by-all-means, I would go to Indianapolis, as that is my home.  And she said: All right, sell me a ticket to Indianapolis.

Don't be surprised if she takes a friendly-poke at some of our Modern Ways, showing how silly they are.  If you have the time you should read the book, LAND OF THE GOOD SHADOWS, which is the story of ANAUTA's strange life.  The Foreword of this book was written by the late Sir Wilfred Grenfell three days before he died, in October, 1940.  ANAUTA was a close friend of Sir Wilfred.

Always trained and believing, faithfully, in Absolute Honesty, ANAUTA has done many things that her neighbors and friends could not understand.  After locating in Indianapolis, at first she had plenty of money, which had come from the sale of furs.  Her neighbors noticed that she would go away from her home for an entire day, — leaving the house unlocked, — with her money (a large sum) in an old cigarbox on the mantel.  They upbraided her about this, but she simply could not understand the reason.  And even to this day — after about twenty years in the United States — her manager tells us that when she desires to send him any money, she always puts the currency just loose in the letter.  An almost unbelievable trust in everyone's honesty.  Oh, how far have we gone away from that!

In her travels throughout the United States, ANAUTA has encountered some very interesting experiences.  In January of '42, filling an engagement in Dixon, Ill., she was placed in the Lincoln-Room at the Nachusa Hotel, a room occupied at one time by the immortal Abraham Lincoln.  This room is maintained in exactly the condition it was, when Lincoln slept there; same bed, coverings, pictures, rugs, etc. Previous to ANAUTA's coming, the last person to have slept in that bed was Madame Schumann-Heinck.  ANAUTA said she could not sleep.  On the wall, facing her, was an enormous picture of Lincoln, with (as she said) those solemn eyes looking down at her all night.

At Cincinnati, in October, '41, where she was speaking to a large body of school teachers, it was announced at the lecture, that—after the meeting was over—ANAUTA would appear at a certain Book-Store, to autograph books.  Those teachers flocked to that store in such numbers, that they blocked the street and side-walk; so they had to call the Police, to open a lane for traffic.

At Columbus, Ohio, she was dismayed and heart-broken at our so-called Christian (?) Civilization—when, on the walls of a Restaurant, she saw large signs, reading: WATCH YOUR OVERCOAT.  While lecturing in Boston and vicinity, in February, '43, the door of a passenger-coach slammend shut, and injured her arm severely.  All her friends and business associates, urged her to bring suit against the railroad, as she had a clear case.  But she refused, saying: If I fell on the ice and injured my arm, I would not Sue the Ice.  The story of this came out the next day in the Boston papers and the book-stores were swamped with orders for the Land of the Good Shadows, the purchasers saying they wanted to read about that strange Eskimo Woman, who would not Sue The Railroad.

When ANAUTA started to Speak-in-Public she was working as a common day-laborer at the Presto-Lite Battery Factory in Indianapolis.  Just by chance a Writer found her there, and told her that was NOT the place for her, but on the Platform.  When she appears before you, she will come in (what her manager calls) her Seventy-Below-Outfit, which is a beautiful suit made of the skins of deer and seal.  (Yes, she made the suit herself.)  Before she learned about Privately-owned-land, she used to go out in the fields, and shoot herself a good mess-of-chickens.  But the police soon put a stop to that.

If you have the time ANAUTA will be pleased to answer questions.



Not Quite a Utopia - Eskimo Land Seemed Like One
Until All the Facts Were in
Battle Creek, (Mich.) Enquirer and News
April 24, 1946

Dear Boss:

For awhile yesterday I thought this letter would be one of resignation.  I had found a place where there were no housing shortages, no meat shortages, no clocks, no calendars and no editors.

This Utopia is otherwise known as Baffin island, about 400 miles from the North Pole and I learned all about it from the little Eskimo woman you sent me to see.

Her name is Anauta.  Not Miss, not Mrs., just plain Anauta.  It seems Eskimos have no family names, just given names.

I did not know what your conception of an Eskimo is but having seen pictures of those up-side-down-soup bowl-shaped igloos in which I thought they lived I expected all Eskimos to be shaped like a question mark.

You could have knocked me over with a walrus tusk when Anauta answered my knock on the door of her room at the Post Tavern.  She is scarcely five feet tall, weighs less than 100 pounds and is as straight as the spears she used to throw at the seals in her backyard in Baffin-land.

She was wearing a small-checkered two-piece suit with a fluffy white waist.  Her black hair, slightly streaked with grey, was done attractively in a fashionable hair-do.  She looked exactly like you would picture any young American grandmother.  And Anauta is a grandmother.

That is another point in favor of Baffin-land.  The women there never lie about their ages.  No need to.  They do not know how old they are.  Time means nothing up there.  They observe no birthdays, no holidays, no Sundays and as I said they have no clocks or calendars.

Anauta has four daughters, all of whom now live in the United States, and she does not know the age of any of them.  Think of the possibilities, boss.  Being married to a woman whose birthday you would never have to worry about forgetting.  Two of them are married and have made Anauta a grandmother four times.

It is hard to imagine this frail little lady bringing down a deer or bear with a rifle and then skinning the animal before the carcass froze in the 70 below temperatures.  But that was her life from the time she was old enough to tote a rifle until her husband drowned in a hunting accident.  She then left Baffin Island to eventually land in the United States.

She eventually wound up on the lecture platform after she found herself being kept busy with requests to speak in the classrooms of the school her daughters were attending.  She has since spoken all over the country.

This was the life for Anauta because in Baffin Island she was never in one place more than three days.  There the families stay in one spot until there are no animals left to kill for food and skins.  They then climb on their dog sleds and go on to new hunting grounds.

This continuous moving presents no housing problem.  In summer they pitch tents made from deer skins.  In winter they make their igloos.  But not those tiny dome-shaped jobs you see in cartoons.

They are large enough for the children to romp around in and tall enough for the grownups to stand erect.  Anauta asked that the misconception that igloos are made from ice be cleared up along with the fallacy that Eskimos eat nothing but blubber.

The igloos are made from cakes of packed snow which are easy to lift.  Blubber, or seal fat, is used only for their lamps.  Their diet is meat, either sun or frost dryed.

Anauta also shattered a prized illusion of mine—and incidentally made me think twice about going Eskimo.  I told her I thought the Eskimo way of kissing by rubbing noses was a charming custom.  She only laughed.  She explained that not only do Eskimos not kiss by rubbing noses but they do not kiss in any way, shape or form.  There is no word for kiss in their language.

There is no form of affection in Baffin-land outside of an occasional friendly pat.  Imagine playing post-office or spin the bottle and then going into a dark igloo for a pat on the back.

I advanced the idea that wooing a wife must be difficult under that pat-a-back arrangement.  No wooing, smiled Anauta.  The young man spots a young lady, who perhaps appeals to him because she throws a wicked spear or tosses together an igloo in nothing flat, and he tells his parents.  His parents tell her parents and daughter has herself a husband.  (At this point I stopped writing my letter of resignation.)

And there is the little matter of shoes.  These are made by the wearer from sealskin.  But to get a good fit and have a soft, pliable boot the Eskimo spends several quiet evenings at home just chewing that skin until it becomes as soft as cotton.

Upon receiving this bit of information from Anauta I thought about my choppers that groan at anything toughter than mashed potatoes and tore up my letter of resignation.

Still wanting to hear more of Anauta's experiences I went to Marshall last night where she spoke before members of the Calhoun County Education association.  It was the first time I ever saw a lecturer called back by an audience for an encore.

It also gave me the chance to see Anauta wearing her Baffin Island summer ensemble.  This consists of Sealskin boots—chawed by Anauta—deer fur trousers, and a white slip-over wool-furlined coat that is hand trimmed with thousands of tiny beads, lead pellets from bullets and coins that she has traded for skins.

She explained that she had American coins trimming the front of her coat while down the back she had English coins.  And as someone remarked, the sun may never set on England but Anauta does.  (It's a joke, boss.)

I must close now as Anauta promised to teach me a few Baffin-land phrases I may find handy in future discussions with you.—Your Illusion-Shattered Reporter.




Book Review
The New York Herald-Tribune in its issue of Dec. 8, 1940, published a two-column review of the book: LAND OF THE GOOD SHADOWS.  The reviewer—Mr. Elliott Merrick—in his closing statements, had this to say:

ANAUTA missed the companionship and cooperation that characterizes an Eskimo household, and among all the other thousands of bizarre phenomena she thought it most shameful that a man's promise should be invalid unless written and witnessed.  The close association of hard-hearted greed and sentimental charity were also difficult for her to understand.  Probably she never will understand them; and a reader, thinking her thoughts, begins to be bewildered himself by the hypocrisies we have been brought up to accept.

This story of a unique life begins slowly, but the pace increases, even as it did for ANAUTA.  Without emotion, with no ax to grind, with simplicity that is natural to her, she proves that the culture she inherited is better to live by than the culture she has had to adopt.  Being a woman of 'two worlds' sometimes makes her sad, but she clings to the Eskimo philosophy:


'Yesterday is gone,
Tomorrow has not come.
Today is here—
Put only the best into today'.


In a review of this book by the late William Lyon Phelps, he said: It is impossible adequately to describe this book because—as Sir Wilfred Grenfell says — ANAUTA is unique, there is no other person in the world like her.  The Eskimos of Baffin Island apparently have solved one of the greatest of all problems: how to live together without fighting.



Enthusiastic Committees searching for a suitable announcement, have used these terms:

ANAUTA: Of the Aurora Borealis
ANAUTA: White Seal of the Frozen Wastes
ANAUTA: From the Land of the Good Shadows
ANAUTA: The Humorist From Baffin-Land
ANAUTA: A Brilliant Star of the Northern Lights



(Her Name in Eskimo)


The Only Eskimo Woman on the American Platform